


Below The Bar

by BeastFeast87



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - 1910s, Emotionally Repressed, Gay Bar, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Homophobia, Sexually Repressed, Slow Burn, Slurs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-11 01:54:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17437673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeastFeast87/pseuds/BeastFeast87
Summary: Walker has his secrets like everyone else in the world, but he's never had it be someone else's to keep.  He's never really cared enough to keep anyone else's either.aka the gay bar au that i've always wanted to write but never did





	1. Mixer

_We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars._

**-Oscar Wilde** , Lady Windermere's Fan

 

 

 

 

Warden Walker was not a hesitant man by any means.  He hadn't gotten the job he did by simply waiting and keeping his head down; he went out and took what he wanted, which was really the only way that anything could ever get done.  It took a lot to make the man even the slightest bit nervous. He just wasn't the type to spook.

 

But this?  This made him tense.

 

The warden was a straightforward man.  Things either  _ were  _ or they  _ weren't  _ and that was how it is.  Black and white.  Sometimes, however, finesse was required.  Delicate subjects couldn't always be solved so simply.  Those were the most annoying.  He grimaced, wishing for his work suit.  He straightened his collar and tie subconsciously, smoothing his white shirt down.

 

This wasn't something he had ever done before, and while this wasn't usually an issue, everyone had their secrets; and he  _ was  _ secretive, if not, just the quiet type and this was a secret he had never actually said aloud.

 

“First time, huh?”

 

Walker blinks, holding himself a little taller.  He turns just a bit to the side, squinting when he doesn't see the speaker.

 

“Down here,” says the voice, a hint of frustrated embarrassment present.

 

Walker’s eyes slide down to a young man whose lips were slightly quirked in an encouraging smile.  “First time?” the boy reiterates.

 

“...I've had Italian before, punk,” he grumbles, fighting and failing to keep his face straight instead of scowling.  He could have flinched. He wasn't supposed to be acting like a bastard. None of this was part of the plan. He ought to just head home and forget the whole debacle to begin with.

 

The young man gave a startled laugh.  “Oh, you're funny. You know what I meant,” gentle blue eyes turning smug, half lidded eyes sharp and knowing.

 

Walker froze, jaw clenched.   _ Oh.   _ So he was like him.  His eyes appraised the boy with newfound curiosity, examining the fitted bartender’s outfit.  He watched the interloper squirm under his stern gaze. He was a little sloppy, a little off kilter.  His dark hair was mussed by the wind, framing a soft jawline with a hint of stubble. His shirt wasn't tucked in yet, tie undone around his white shirt’s collar and the sleeves rolled to the elbows revealing slim wrists.  “How could you tell?” he eventually asks, reluctant and feeling a match-sized burn in his chest of a familiar kind of shame light.

 

The young man’s eyes broke their nervous staring contest with the sidewalk plants and sprung to his own.  The warden hoped he was keeping himself stoic and the boy couldn't tell how resigned he was to come so far only to nearly go home.  “Well, nobody really waits outside an Italian restaurant like that. Not unless it's also something  _ else _  and it's their first time as a  _ customer”. _   His chapped lips curled up revealing straight, white teeth.

 

“I hoped I wasn't that obvious,” Walker grumbles, mentally kicking himself.  He never wanted to be found out, but he would feel even worse if he ruined it for everyone else.

 

“Oh, you weren't!” The boy replied encouragingly, going for what Walker assumes was supposed to be a pat on the back, but ended up a pat on his waist with how tall he was compared to the boy.  “I've just… well, I find a few stragglers on the steps when I go in for my shift every now and again. I'm sure anyone that saw you would think you were just waiting for someone. Want me to let you in?” He offered gently.

 

Under normal circumstances, the warden would decline, feeling a slight sting to his pride at the thought of some greenwood kid trying to show him around.  He preferred to make his own mistakes and learn himself, prideful man that he was. Today, however, Walker only felt an almost overwhelming sense of relief and felt his shoulders sink a bit.  He folded his hands behind his back, nodding appreciatively. “I wouldn't say no, if you're offering”.

 

The kid’s nervous smile split into a wide grin, eyes lighting right up.  Walker felt the blood vessels in his heart squirm. The young man combed dark hair back with his fingers, which Walker recognized as an anxious tick.  He smiled at him over his shoulder and watched the warden with curious blue eyes as he pushed the doors to the restaurant open, walking through and holding it for the older man.  “Just stick with me, okay? Don't get lost; it gets busy on Fridays, sir”.

 

Walker nodded, and followed the boy’s steps through the crowd.  He felt awkward, and it frustrated him. Each time his shirt rubbed against him, each laugh in the busy restaurant, each time the kid checked behind his steps for him only to smile when they made eye contact only made him feel even more as if he didn't belong.  Overstimulation cracked against his back and his head throbbed as if getting a migraine.

 

“Just past here, sir!  Just let me- oh! Uh, hey, old man”.

 

Walker stiffened when the young man bumped his chest into an imposing dark suit.

 

“Daniel,” came a smooth voice from the suit.  Walker’s jaw clenched. He hadn't expected to run into the mayor so early in the evening.  He'd done the research (maybe abusing his powers as warden, but who's to say?) and knew well that the place was run by the mayor as a pet project, but he could still hardly believe the man was… involved.  Yet, even at this place, Vlad Masters was immaculate from his brushed hair and imposing black suit all the way to his perfectly folded pocket handkerchief.

 

The warden supposed that was how people like them learned how to survive.

 

“Warden,” The man acknowledged.

 

“Mr. Masters,” he offered, taking the extended hand and shared a firm, but polite, handshake.

 

“Good to see you.  If you wouldn't mind waiting, I'm sure I can find a server for you,” he says smoothly, smiling with perfectly pleased politeness.  Warden kept his face emotionless but polite and straightened, feeling his arms go behind him as he rose above Vlad’s height.

 

The young man, Daniel, interjected with a defensive frown.   _ “Actually, _  he’s with me, Fruitcake,” he said with a slight sting of scorn on his tongue.  Walker’s eyes flit to the younger man, who had straightened up. Daniel’s mouth twisted and his lip curled in unabashed disgust.  Walker could have laughed. Certainly, the mayor was no angel, even if many were fooled, but no one in their right mind would be so bold with disrespect.  It struck as amusing that a boy not even half his size would get protective over him after knowing only one thing about him. It was charming.

 

Instead of getting cruel, Masters simply blinked, sudden recognition overcoming his features and the perfect smile on his face froze.  “Ah”. The mayor paused before his features settled into something almost business-like. He turned to face the warden, who felt the sudden pressure of the man’s gaze on him.  “I see. If I’d known we had similar… teams we supported I would have invited you sooner. I trust that you won’t start trouble then?”

 

Walker had to work to keep his face stony and breathing even.  It was as though he were getting punched several times in succession.  This wasn’t even something he had ever admitted to  _ himself _  out loud, but here he was, being acknowledged by two people, and yet they were accepting.  While the mayor’s face was assessing, it wasn’t judgmental. Daniel seemed like he barely even cared.

 

_ This is what you came for, _  he told himself sternly.   _ You’ve come this far.  It’s like any other job. _

 

“Of course not,” he said stiffly.  “If anything, I’m here to make sure whatever trouble does come up stays… quiet”.  The warden narrowed his eyes, looking down at the mayor with renewed resolve.

 

Understanding filled Masters’s gaze.  “Then that is something that I can agree to.  Daniel, feel free to take him to the exclusives”.

 

“That’s what I  _ was _  doing!  Christ, can you move?  We’ve got some sticks to tie together,” Daniel snapped, pushing the mayor with little force and stomped past the man to the long, dark wood door that Masters had exited from.

 

Masters moved with the push, frowning.  He gave a haughty sniff before turning to smile at Walker.  “Have a good time, warden”.

 

Walker only spared the man a simple nod before closing the door behind him stiffly, entering into a musty stairwell.  Daniel was already stomping halfway down the steps, hunched and irate. “God, he’s such a bastard,” the boy grumbled.

 

Walker’s lips twitched slightly, curled in a small smirk of amusement at the boy’s bellyaching.  “And yet, you work here,” he mused.

 

“Yeah, well… we all come to our middle grounds, I guess,” Daniel admits, posture softening.  “He’s a whackjob for sure but… he  _ does _  have my back which, coming from  _ him _ , is really something, huh?”

 

Walker followed down the dimly lit steps to where Daniel waited at another door, this one just as unassuming as the other.  “I suppose that’s true, Daniel”.

 

Daniel whipped his head around as he put his hand on the doorknob, eyes lit with confusion.  Walker’s smile slipped away immediately with practiced ease. “What? Oh, uh, yeah. My name’s actually Danny.  Nobody calls me that, except my mom when I’m in trouble, or him and it’s only because he won’t call me Danny”. Danny seemed a bit embarrassed at this, rambling nervously.

 

Walker gave an almost silent hum of amusement.  “Whatever you say, punk”.

 

Danny’s eyes lit up with mischief.  “Is that any way to treat someone that’s going to be mixing your drinks?” he shoots back slyly, opening the door.  “Welcome to The Zone, sir. I didn’t catch a name”.

 

Walker steps into the dim, cozy glow of The Ghost’s Zone Bar and took his hat from his head, crossing it over his chest, his other arm folded behind his back properly.  He took a long look around the room, assessing it. There was a beautiful natural wood bar counter with lines of spalting trailing up and down it like black lace. A kitchen bustled behind it, passing food to waitresses.  The entire room was actually quite full, but not uncomfortably so, and a quiet murmur of atmosphere. There were a few tables, where men pressed affectionate kisses to each other’s cheeks and women held each other around the waist.  A few couples in the corner were so wrapped up in each other that Walker nearly flinched and had to turn his eyes down out of privacy and shame for himself. There were lovely lamp fixtures of stained glass that hung above the tables with pale green swirls.  A young looking woman with dark makeup was singing something slow and sultry for the benefit of a few dancers in a cleared spot at on the floor.  The place looked less like a bar and more like a respectable club, if he were honest.

 

“Sir?”

 

Walker blinked, eyes turning down to Danny’s which were wide and concerned.  “...Walker,” he eventually managed, voice coming up rusted.

 

The boy almost seemed to shiver, having to tilt his head nearly all the way back to look him in the eye.  Blue eyes were dilated dark in the slightly dimmed atmosphere of the bar and he worried the hem of his shirt. White teeth sank into Danny’s bottom lip, and with it a lightning bolt of heat down Walker’s spine.  Just as fast, the reactionary shame crushed him, like running into a brick wall. “What?”

 

“Walker.  My name is Walker, punk”.

 

Danny blinked before nodding, eyes flicking up and down his face and to his chest, the tips of his ears pinking.  “Um… great! Nice to meet you, Mr. Walker, sir, I’m Danny- wait, you already knew that- I- um- sorry! I’m a little scattered tonight!  I’m, uh, forgetting myself. Look, I’ve got to get to work at the bar but if you’re nervous- not that you would be, of course-  A guy like you's got nothing to worry about-  You could always stay by me at the bar and be your excuse not to be bothered by anyone,” he offered shyly, hand on the back of his neck.

 

Walker was once again struck with a sudden fondness for the young man that had welcomed him so immediately and without question.  He gave a simple nod, following the boy to the bar. Danny waved with a grin every now and again to customers that would raise a glass and cheer or give him a call.  Danny raised the bar gate and circled under, Walker taking a seat at the very end and turned so his back was to the cool wall.

 

He watched analytically as Danny pulled an apron from under the counter and tied it around his hips with fluttering hands, giving Walker a flicker of a glance every now and again before turning back to his actions and worrying his lip.  He greeted the kitchen staff with a holler and a wave before turning back to the bar and mixing a few quick drinks for a couple people that had wandered to him. Walker watched him curiously out of the corner of his eye and found to his surprise that the young man was actually quite spatially aware and grabbed correct bottles instinctively and without looking.  His eyes were far but focused on the glass in front of him and even managed a few playful tricks for what he assumed was a friend of his.  Walker chuckled silently to himself when he found the boy glancing at him after, his cheeks pinking before turning away quickly.  If he were more self absorbed, he might have thought Danny was showing off for him, rather than his friends.

 

Walker took his eyes off the boy and watched the room move around him like a living thing.  He watched the singer look from under half lidded eyes to another blonde woman that swooned at her feet, obviously enthralled.  His gaze turned to a pair of teams playing pool, two of the opposing captains flirting aggressively with charged grins, the men trading kisses openly with each other.  He looked at couples left and right and found them as relaxed as the ones upstairs in the restaurant were.

 

For the first time in his life, the warden felt completely normal.

 

His throat was tight.

 

“Overwhelming?” a voice asked at his side, just as kind as the first time he’d heard it.

 

Walker turned, and pulled his back away from the wall.  Danny wiped a wine glass clean, smiling sweetly to him. He took a deep breath, held it in the high of his lungs, and let it out with ease.  He felt as if all of him were lit with fire, smoldering on the edges. He blinked, unsure how to answer without damaging his pride. He finally settled on a careful, “No”.

 

Danny’s smile quirked a bit.  “Quiet type, are you Mr. Walker, sir?” he said with amusement.

 

Walker felt his brows raise minutely.  “Keep talking and see where it gets you, punk,” he replies without heat or promise behind the words.  If anything, he thinks he sounded almost playful.

 

The smirk widened to a grin.  “What can I get you?”

 

Walker felt like grinning.  He didn’t, of course. Even here, he had a reputation to uphold and instead forced a stiff frown to his face.  “Scotch”.

 

Danny grinned, and Walker felt alive.


	2. Sudoku

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thinking hard or thinking softly, most often I am thinking of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _As never fool for love, I starved for you._
> 
>  
> 
> -Rupert Brooke, Libido
> 
>  
> 
> (Chapter trigger warnings: internalized homophobia, slurs, and sexual content)

Walker tipped his hat to the mayor, walking through the door heavily.  Were he a lesser man he might have been dragging his boots. He forced them into steps, no matter how much the steel toes weighed him weary.  With each step down the hidden stairs, Walker could feel himself grow lighter, and by the time he opened the door to crisp, green lights, his shoulders relaxed a minuscule amount in the comfort of the stained glass lights.

 

“Mr. Walker, sir!  Back again!” a familiar voice cheered at the far wall.  A few heads looked up, giving him a quick glance before looking back down, cowed by his presence.  He didn't blame the crowd for their hesitant nature. Cops, no matter how queer, would be a risk. He was grateful for Masters’ endorsement to put the place at ease.  Naturally, he'd hate to lose business. Maybe it helped his case that Walker was careful to never show his badge and kept his gun as hidden. He came as himself, and he was so adamant about it that on the days he was required uniform he would go home and change even if it tired him.

 

Walker’s heart went warm.  “Long day at the office, Mr. Walker, sir?” came a playful voice from the bar as the warden sat at his usual corner seat.  “You look tired. Did something happen?” Danny prodded curiously.

 

Walker didn't say a thing, simply sighing and folding his fingers in front of his mouth, resting against the bar.  Danny made a sympathetic noise, setting his usual drink in front of him. He took it gratefully and with leisure he didn’t usually get the grace of during the day.  Walker sighed and it seemed like all of his energy left with it, leaving him weary and feeling almost damaged. “I had a bit of a rough day too. I think I may close the bar up a little early and head home.  It's just been one of those days, huh?” For a few moments, Walker allowed himself to feel a bit of greedy protectiveness over the bartender, entertaining the thought of using his baton on whoever had made the boy’s day so difficult.  He felt a little better, and crushed the feeling like ice between his teeth.

 

Walker listened silently, wrestling up just enough energy to glower around the room sternly.  The bar always seemed a little more stable when he was there, the customers more restrained for the typical hour he remained.  “You seem even less talkative than usual. You didn't even give me that grumpy look you usually do when I joshed you about your job.  Didn't lose your tongue at work did you? Terrible thing to lose, especially for us queers. Might even say we need them more than anyone else,” he said cheekily, snickering to himself.  Walker nearly laughed, a sudden feeling of disbelief of where he was and what he was doing. Instead, he worked his jaw and felt it pop painfully.

 

“It can’t be that bad if it would keep you from talking, punk,” Walker sniped.  He breathed deep, feeling the calm and light atmosphere drain into the weight of his bones.  It sank into him, stripping the dirt of the day from him and left only warmth and comfort behind in its wake.

 

“There it is!  I missed that voice!” Danny crowed with a laugh.  Walker froze and watched from under his lashes. The young man’s entire being seemed to light up like a beacon when he laughed.  He could savor every laugh from him, from soft, mischievous snickers to loud and boisterous. He felt a sudden, cloying sense of possessiveness creeping through him and Walker shoved it down with a slight rumble in his chest.

 

“What do you do for a living?  I don’t think I’ve ever asked you, as often as you come in,” Danny asks, wiping down the counter.  If he hadn't grown to know Danny as quickly as he had or hadn't been an officer for a while, he might have mistaken it for polite conversation instead of keen interest.

 

“I'm the warden of the prison,” Walker replies simply.  He wasn't sure what sort of person Danny was, but it was best to reveal his job now if Danny kept pressing him with questions and names of familiarity.  He thought he would grow used to his name being drawn from the young man’s lips but with each day that passed, the steadily increasing affection that lined his name made him need to suppress a shiver each and every time he heard the happy call from the bar when he entered.   _“Mr. Walker, sir!”_ was being stamped into his heart with more and more familiarity.

 

_He fisted his cock fiercely as though he had a grudge against the damn thing, imagining chapped lips around it, soft, dark hair in his hands so he could fuck into the inviting mouth.  He imagined tears pricking the eyes and pulling away a moment to hear a moan as he thought of pressing the heel of his shined shoes into the crotch of uniform slacks.  He could hear the voice so clearly in his mind, "Mr. Walker, sir..."  high and broken, coming embarrassingly quick-_

 

Walker cracked his neck and made an odd, neutral noise in the back of his throat like a rumble or a hum.  Guilt snarled and tore at his stomach and he allowed it.

 

Danny raised a brow and narrowed his eyes.  “Ah, an officer of the law. Fair warning, I've got a problem with authority, _Warden,_ ” the bartender said playfully, though Walker could sense a hint of bitterness in the words.  He pretended the low tone didn’t send a thrill through him. It would always surprise him when the normally humorous man would raise the hackles a bit; a small taste of danger amidst the sweetness.

 

It wasn't surprising.  It was common for young people to have a distaste for anyone in authority, especially young adults.  It wasn't long ago when people like him would go into classrooms and take boys, barely men, and put a helmet on their head and send them to a hail of bullets.  Some would never come back. Warden couldn't blame them. As much as he served the law, he was allowed to despise it at times.

 

Walker gave a hum.  “I'm hardly authority,” Walker growled, lip curling.  “I just keep the town clean”.

 

Danny blinked, pausing.  The boy leaned forward on his elbows, a little closer than he usually would come.  “It’s a shame. I'm only the most illegal thing in the room. If you arrested me, who would mix your drink for you?”

 

Walker leaned back, the boy's breath sweet with the scent of grenadine.  A cherry stem he hadn't noticed before hung from Danny’s lip with a knot in the stem.  “How old are you, punk?” he asked finally, assessing him.  The thought hadn't ever occurred before.

 

Danny blinked slowly, relaxed.  It was getting late. The bar was only ever open for a few hours before Danny would leave on weekdays.  He assumed the boy went to college nearby, for him to have to leave so early. Walker was never one to be less than diligent but found ignorance was best in this place.  No one offered a last name, and he didn't ask.

 

“Seventeen,” he answered finally, a small smile on his face.

 

Walker could have reeled back in surprise.  “You can't tend a bar; you're underage,” he said with a stiff frown.  He felt his back straighten as if his spine were under pressure from all sides and if he were honest, that's what it felt like.

 

Danny laughed.  “Please, Mr. Walker, sir.  There's a lot of things I shouldn't do but do anyways.  Come here, for one. We’re all rule breakers in here, sir”.

 

“It doesn't make it any more right.  A boy your age doesn't learn how to mix a drink as well as you do in a year,” he says stiffly.  Sure, teenagers drinking wasn't uncommon. Kids would be kids, and get into all sorts of trouble.  It's just that he was usually scaring the piss out of them so they didn't again. Maybe he wanted to scare Danny a bit to see if he’d back down or go toe to toe with him as he had with Masters.  Maybe it was a bit more than that, but he stomped it down, and knew it would bring more harm than good to their relationship.

 

“Oh, I'm just good at chemistry.  Science is fun”. Walker narrows his eyes at the offhand explanation.  He doesn't quite think that's the whole truth. “Anyways, it's a life skill isn't it?”  Danny laughed suddenly. “Oh no, are you gonna cuff me, officer? I guess… if there’s no other option…” Danny teased, feigning a bashful appearance but ruined all by his grin as he offered his wrists crossed, still leaning toward him.  Walker tries not to think on the implication, but the heat that roiled in his gut was hard to ignore the thought of Danny cuffed and strung out, Walker’s thumb in his mouth and a hand on those hips while he-

 

Walker let out a frustrated huff and turned away, feeling too warm.  Seventeen. That was way too young. Walker rubbed his eyes, feeling groggy and wound too tight.  He sighed, rolling his sleeves up. He could feel heat crawling up his neck. He should have known.  He should have known that someone so soft and welcoming would be so- He grimaced, feeling Saint Maria standing on his grave.  Walker couldn’t believe he was so stupid, giving in to small, soft thoughts of the other that wormed their way into his brain.  He’d let himself slowly start to feel normal, feel like he was alright and that this was okay but- damn it all, _seventeen._

 

Of course the only person he felt even the smallest interest in would end up too young.  Oh sweet Jesus, what if Danny thought he was younger than he was, and all that banter was flirting after all?  God, he didn’t think he looked young, but he didn’t think he’d looked old either.

 

“Why?  How old are you?” Danny asked, interrupting his thought process immediately.

 

“...How old you you think I am?” he probed, gauging.

 

Danny paused, thinking.  Eyes narrowed, Danny assessed him, leaning back and roving his eyes up and down his appearance.  Walker held himself perfectly still, unblinking. He thought if he moved he might shiver, and wasn’t willing to chance it.

 

Danny made a small, indecisive groan, tilting his head, as if it would help.  The warden had to force himself to forget how endearing it was, the boy tilting his head like a dog hearing a new noise.  “I think… maybe… thirty?”

 

There goes that hypothesis.

 

Walker frowns and turns, sipping his drink.  His throat burned.

 

“So was I right?” Danny asks eagerly, leaning in, his arms crossed and ready for cuffs again.

 

Walker ignored him and focused very hard on the game of pool being played across the room.

 

“Hey!  Come on!  I told you mine, it’s only fair,” the bartender whines.

 

“...Thirty-five in October,” he eventually gave, begrudgingly.

 

Danny lets out a small, triumphant noise.  “I knew it! Almost got it!” Walker sighs, blinking slowly at the counter.  “Hey, are you okay to go home? You look… well, you look like shit, sir”.

 

Walker gave the boy a sharp look that was returned with innocent eyes.  “Boy,” Walker growls lowly, turning the word over in his mouth. His accent reared its head on his tongue, mouth loose with alcohol and frustration.  “You better shut your damn mouth. Said it yourself; damn shame if a queer lost his tongue. Especially if it was because he was talkin’ back to the wrong man, punk”.

 

Danny’s back went ramrod straight and he twitched.  A strange gurgle rented itself from Danny’s throat like an involuntary reaction.  Blue eyes went wide and Walker eased off his scowl a bit, worried he may have scared the boy too much.  “Y- Yes sir,” Danny breathes and- oh. Walker knew that look.

 

Walker’s mouth went wet with hunger and knew he had to leave the bar.   _Yes sir,_ echoed in his ears.  Walker stood and, not knowing what to say, left without a word.   _Yes sir._

 

He didn't hear anything, words and sounds never quite connecting with his ears as he shambled from the bar.   _Yes sir,_ he thought dizzily. He wasn't sure where he was until he recognized the key in his hand and the front door.  How did he get home?

 

He walked through, happy barks greeting him.  He idly patted the German Shepard's head, moving to feed her dinner.  He made a small murmur of, “Good girl,” as she ate, tail wagging.

 

Walker walked to his bed, unbuttoning his shirt as he went.  His breathing turned deep and ragged, panic rising. What the hell is wrong with him?  Why was he like this? He felt himself loose his pants, socks, and sock garters, falling into a seat on his bed.

 

He stared at the pristine, soft gray walls and wondered where it all went wrong in his life.

 

He thinks about when he first stepped into the bar.  He thinks about his acceptance into the police academy.  He thinks about his promotion, his leaving to warden, he thinks about high school.  He thinks about how angry he was when he realized the break in him, the broken part that _wasn't right._  He thinks about how he tried to force the broken pieces together into something better, thinks about how he had fucked half the girls in the school a town over in an attempt to force his broken pieces normal.  He remembers half charming his way under skirts, sliding into cunt and feeling completely disgusted, then feeling disgusted that he _was_ disgusted.  He remembers fucking into them, a drunken, spiteful teenager, and in a last ditch effort to save himself from going soft closing his eyes and imagining less curves, hard muscle, and less tit.  He remembers sitting at the edge of a bed, a body sleeping next to him and a party raging downstairs and realizing how unfixable he was. He remembers going into the bathroom, sitting on the floor and crying, sobbing into hand towels to muffle his begging, praying God to change him.

 

Mostly though, mostly he thinks about Danny’s eyes when he’d threatened him.  He thinks about how Danny had straightened up, perfected his posture immediately.  How he’d been acting like a punk a few moments before and gone prim and proper. He thinks about how for a moment he felt an odd mix of arousal and pride that he'd straightened the boy out with just a few words; about how he went stiff in his pants just watching him _obey._  He thinks about how Danny’s voice went high and hoarse.  He thinks about how for a moment he thought he saw deep, hungry lust claw at him in the bright blue eyes hiding mingled with the sharp fear.  How chapped lips parted a moment in surprise.

 

He wonders if Danny’s ever let his hand go too far south thinking of him like how he thought of Danny.

 

Walker snarled at himself in disgust as he fell back against his pillows, squeezing himself through his briefs.   _He’s underage,_ he reminded himself sternly.  He winces, glaring at the ceiling.  

 

 _Thoughts aren't illegal,_ another part, a hungrier part that wanted to do awful things to Danny to get him to fist his long fingers in Walker’s sheets says.

 

_Doesn't make it right._

 

He thinks about how Danny's lips parted and feels a damp patch form on the front of his briefs.

 

But this was simple attraction.  Walker could deal with attraction as he had many times before.  He just needed to exert some _control._

 

Walker grit his teeth, released himself, and closed his eyes.  He forced himself into sleep with his cock hard and shame beating into his back like rods.

**Author's Note:**

> idk if anyones going to actually read this, but if you do, let me know what you thought down below in the comments please. id love to hear from you. :)
> 
> i also write shit about hot monsters and age gap ships so if that interests you follow me on tumblr at beastfeast87 or twitter for my horny posts at the same name.


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